Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.

Chapter Ten: The Release

I hated being away from Art and the more I hated it the guiltier I felt. Dylan was made to feel this every night. He had known for eight nights and had had the privilege of not sleeping away from him for only two of those. What was I doing? He said he wanted me, he repeatedly asked for me to take him back. Had been doing it for six months, even when dating Kelly he asked. He wanted us to live together, be a family living together; Art could have both of us even for just a short time, but I couldn't. If, when he cheated on me again it would destroy our friendship, our connection, and while we would always be parents to Art I couldn't risk what that would do to him; growing up with a mother who had been destroyed by their father.

He had too much power over me, it was clear when he said he had always felt my love for him. I had tried to block it, hide it, act like it was past tense but I had obviously failed. My failure though spoke volumes about us. I couldn't switch my love off and it seeped out of me, and his, well I wasn't convinced it was still there or after the bathroom had been about me. I had stopped feeling it, he said it was there but Dylan was capable of lying to me. Lying to me it seems for years. From the start.

Once I was discharged my parents and Brandon insisted on taking me to Dylan's together. The whole way there they tried to change my mind but I knew it was where I needed to be, it was where Art would be happiest while I tried to take it easy. It was Saturday afternoon and I had two full day's of taking it easy ahead, my Doctor would of preferred bedrest but I had a three month old baby taking it easy would be a vacation. I would then start college in LA, another point my Doctor had conceded on when I explained it's importance to me, he realised delaying it a week would be more stressful to me. It was a commitment I had made to myself last April, I would graduate as normal on time. My Dad and even my mother would blame Dylan if I didn't, say he disrupted my life. They wouldn't blame Art but any inference in our family that my life had been sidetracked by Dylan McKay and getting pregnant too young would naturally be felt by my son. There was no way my son would have to hear or feel that. College Tuesday was a non-negotiable.

As we pulled up to the house I used to love I became impatient, Art was just a few feet away from me. I moved quickly out the door wanting my son. Dylan must have heard the car as he and Erica were walking down the steps to greet us. Erica ran ahead and threw her arms around my waist and snuggled close, while Dylan brought my son to me. The knots in my chest loosened while I hugged my son and Dylan's little sister to me. He gave me an apologetic smile, and spoke in the same self-conscious tone he had this morning when I called to see how they were all doing. "I'll go help get your stuff." He knew he had pushed me too hard yesterday and while I wasn't angry at him for it, he appeared to be angry at himself enough for the both of us.

I moved the kids and me inside and sat with both of them on the futon, Erica glued to my side and Art firmly in my arms. As my parents, Brandon and Dylan came through carrying either my bags or Tupperware full of the organic no salt meals that my mother had spent the morning making, Erica was speaking a mile a minute. She was telling me of how she helped with Art, about their visit to the growers market this morning to buy organic fruit and vegetables, and then their trip to the video store for all my favourites. Dylan said she could stay up late for one movie tonight once Art was asleep. While he wasn't Erica's parent it was clear from his interactions with her that he would be an excellent one when Art was that age.

My Mum stocked the freezer, while Dylan took my bags from the Walsh men and moved them into his room. It was a good decision as while we hadn't discussed it, it would be easier for us to share that room. Dylan could get up for Art bring him to me for nursing and then take care of him while I went back to sleep. Erica could sleep in the kids room that we had set up for Art and her. Neither my Dad or Brother needed to know that while romantically I didn't trust Dylan as my partner in parenting I gave him full access to sharing the care. That meant at times our intimacy went beyond a normal friendship, sleeping next to him so we could both look after Art through the night didn't bother me. Dylan would never make a move on me without my permission and he would respect any physical boundary I placed between us. The verbal ones was where he struggled.

Once he had put my stuff away he came out and made tea for Mum and I, and coffee for Dad and Brandon. While he was filling Mum in on his conversation with Iris he got a snack plate together for Erica; he had quickly realised that kids liked to eat regularly. My Mother didn't say a word but I could tell when Erica began eating her usual afternoon vegetable and cheese plate without complaint they were surprised- he wasn't putting a show on for them he genuinely took great care of both little McKay's. For a man that had never really been raised in a family in the last week I could see he was the epitome of the family man.

He had a calmness about him, like his demons were finally kept at bay that he had found a purpose to get up. Dylan had been alone for most of his life abandoned by the people who were supposed to care about him the most. Brandon and I had been the first people he had ever truly opened up to, and he liked being apart of our family but even then he hadn't been this secure. I guess he no longer felt like it could be taken away from him, that Art and Erica were his. Throughout the afternoon I could see he wanted to make the same claim to me to keep Art here permanently. It was especially obvious, when my Dad grew uncomfortable with me nursing even covered up with Dylan in the room or when Dylan mentioned that for the first time last night he hadn't had to gently encourage his son to stay awake during his nightly feed, the bottle didn't relax him like I did. Thank god he stopped himself from saying any smart arse remark or from telling my Dad that the cover was only for their benefit not his. His annoyance though that Dad would think he wasn't entitled to this side of me, this side of Art's care was clear, not just in his subtle referencing of being close enough to wake our son during nursing.

When Art fell asleep in my arms and I had yawned for the second time Dylan did step in, insisting he put him down in his crib that he had wheeled into his room last night and gave me a strong suggestion that I go and nap as well. My Mother agreed with Dylan, much to my Dad's annoyance; something had happened between the two of them their truce seemed less secure. Once they had left I went and had a sleep while Dylan played a board game with Erica. A few hours later I woke to an empty room. Moving into the living room I noticed Dylan had converted the futon into a bed with Art secure in the middle doing tummy time and Erica ducking under the bed playing pick-a-boo with him. The squeals of joy from him emphasising how much he loved the game. Dylan was taking pictures of the two of them together but stopped when he saw me.

"Good sleep?"

"Yeah I didn't even hear him wake up."

"I went to check on him and he was awake and quietly chatting to himself. He's a very happy boy with his mummy home."

Moving over to the futon I laid down and kissed my son's head, his squeal of delight was hilarious. "I think he just likes having us all here." My son's squeal as Erica said boo again making both Dylan and I laugh. "What's that smell?"

"Your Mum made a lasagne so Erica asked if we could have it for dinner tonight."

"Erica hey? You had nothing to do with it, convincing her to give it a go?" He shrugged his shoulders and bit his lip. He was a sucker for Cindy's lasagne.

"I made a salad as well, it should be ready in about ten minutes if you're ready to eat now?"

"Sounds good."

We ate dinner at the dining table while Art sat in his bouncer, and afterwards Dylan and Erica washed the dishes while I read Art a story. Once Art was bathed, feed and down for the night, and Erica had showered and was in her pyjamas we sat and watched The Little Mermaid. Erica was almost asleep by the end of it, and when it was over Dylan walked her to her room and tucked her in. A little while later he came back into the room and took my hand pulling me up. Without saying a word he guided me to the bathroom where he had drawn me a bubble bath and had placed candles around the room. "What's this for?"

"This is me taking care of you." He gave me a kiss on the forehead and then left the room.

When I came out a while later in my pyjamas Dylan was sitting with the fire on, with classical music playing in the background, reading. He didn't look up from his book but moved over inviting me to sit with him. I choose to lay down to look at the fire, Dylan lifted my feet onto his lap. After a while I asked what he was reading. He showed me the cover- Walt Whitman poetry. When I asked if he'd read me one, he did and then another and another, all the while rubbing my feet with one of his hands. It was the most relaxing night I had had in, well I'm not sure if I had ever had one like that.

Dylan was surprised when I told him not to make up the futon that him being in the room with Art would be better. Throughout the night Dylan got up bringing Art to me to nurse but took care of the rest of his needs. On Sunday I woke to both McKay men playing next to me, after about ten minutes there was a tap on the door Erica had woken. We moved our morning to the living room where I insisted on making pancakes for breakfast, while Erica helped me the McKay men resumed their playtime.

The pyjama day continued well past midday, and only stopped when Steve and Brandon popped by. While they entertained their nephew I helped Erica pack her school bag and sent out Dylan for last minute backpack and locker essentials. We also chose an outfit for her to wear the next day and then moved back into the living room where I messed around with different hair styles. The braid won by a landslide of votes with all of us agreeing it was the best, especially as it meant at playtime it would be out of her face. Steve and Dylan having attended the West Bev school themselves then filled Erica in on the layout and shared funny stories from their time there.

As I listened and laughed along to Steve's childish antics I nursed Art, being as there were others in the room other than Dylan it was under a nursing blanket. When Steve was telling a particularly outrageous story the phone rang, Dylan picked it up with laughter in his tone, it dropped away instantly. After a minute of some heated quiet words, he asked the person to hold on and covered the phone meeting my eyes.

"Can I hang up?" He was angry.

"Well you might need to tell me who is on the phone first?"

"Kelly. She's saying if I don't at least ask you if she can speak to you she'll just come over here. Can I hang up?"

Had he told her I was here? My parents wouldn't, does that mean they were still talking regularly? I tried to keep the accusation out of my tone he had a right to tell her if he wanted, "how did she even know I was here?"

Steve puts his hand up as he apologetically explains. "That's my fault, I may have been filling Andrea in on how you were, at the Condor café and Kelly heard. She was on campus this morning for a sorority event."

Dylan pleads again. "Can I hang up? Please."

This was ridiculous, she was important to him. When he could see having his family didn't have to include signing up to a life with me he would want her back. I'd rather there be little tension around the three of us as possible when that happens. "Art's ready to be burped come and take him and I'll talk to her."

"Brenda you don't have to do that."

"Brandon are we all going to just ignore each other on campus? Not speak when we hang out with the gang? Of course not, so let me talk to her."

Dylan walked over to me, from his look he wasn't happy. He passed me the phone and I put it against my ear, "Kelly hang on a second." I then clipped my nursing bra back on and buttoned up my shirt before taking the covering cloth away giving Dylan access to pick up his milk drunk son from my lap.

"I love that face he is so blissed out." I smile at Dylan.

"He really is. He didn't latch on great when I swapped him over, he's not a fan of the cloth cover I think it was frustrating him, he might have a bit of air."

"Yeah the cloth is annoying isn't it buddy, but it's only for some of the feeds when it's not just mummy and daddy at home." I roll my eyes, Dylan like Art hated the cloth though given the choice between my Brother's seeing me nurse and the cloth he preferred the cloth.

"Hi Kelly, sorry I was just finishing up Art's feed."

"Yeah I heard." Her voice held a note of sadness. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I just need to take it easy for a few day's."

"It was really scary, has it happened before?"

"I'm sure it was. And yes and no. I haven't fainted before, but since April I have spent more time in hospital or in Doctor's offices than I care to admit. The spikes don't usually occur that fast, I can usually feel when my blood pressure picks up it allows me to manage it before I collapse."

"I'm sorry for the bathroom. I didn't intend to go in there and rehash the Brenda-Dylan-Kelly Bermuda Triangle. It's just hard, after being with him so long, after everything we shared." I close my eyes that fucking hurt. Listening to her I didn't know what to believe, Dylan tells me it wasn't meaningful and she tells me the opposite. Dylan lie's though and if what she said was true I was never the one, I had been the one for then his practice for his real relationship. "But I am sorry I know you're not well. Donna, Andrea, hell even David who is pretty radio station obsessed these day's got mad at me. If I don't make this right I'm not sure they'll speak to me anytime soon." Great an apology because I'm sick and they are mad at her, not because she felt bad for what she said, but if it was true why should she.

Dylan is sitting on the coffee table in front of me with Art against his chest, and my brother's are on the futon, all three are looking at me with worried eyes. Erica is now at the dining table working in her puzzle book. I focus on her trying to centre myself. "Kelly thanks for the phone call but I should go put Art down for his nap."

"You forgive me then?"

"I know you didn't mean to cause my blood pressure to spike."

"Great now that it's sorted maybe we can meet up on campus and have a coffee this week or you can come to the Peach Pit Sorority meeting on Wednesday afternoon?"

Sorted it's not, but what do I expect from her- she loved, loves him. Do I wish she thought better of me, that I hadn't slept with him on purpose to try and win him back, make him pick me? Yes, but while that hadn't been a thought that night we were simply caught in the moment, how could I have not assumed it meant something to him as well afterwards. That he was going to pick me.

Sharing that relaxed night watching movies, laughing like old times, being playful in a way he stopped regularly being once I returned from France, had made me think that he may still be able to love me. When he turned around and picked her two and half weeks later it hurt like hell. Kelly in that bathroom had said nothing that I hadn't spent months thinking in my own head. I was not enough. He obviously had had enough of me, my drama, my body. She had said nothing I hadn't thought, she had just confirmed all my own fears. Though how long he wanted her had been a surprise.

He had wanted her, it was always her- he had told her that when he picked her. He preferred her. Her body, her mind, he wanted all of her. Hearing what he said in that fucking pool, that they were in a fucking pool all over each other when he said it, that he wanted her so badly he couldn't even tell me his choice before he made his move. Yeah the retelling of that night in detail may not have been necessary, but it did stop any delusions I had started to have that we could be together, that he had made a mistake last year, that what he had been saying for months was true. But he didn't want me he wanted stability and now he wanted more access to his son. I didn't blame Dylan for that, our son was amazing.

Thinking of Art calmed me. "I'll see, it's going to be a busy week with Erica starting school, Art starting daycare, and Dylan and I back at College; let alone Suzanne's due back and Iris is flying in. I'm supposed to be taking it easy so I'm going to try and stick to campus and home for the time being, the Pit meeting may not be great."

"We could have it at your parents that afternoon, I could grab a peach pie and we could have it there."

Fuck I understood the mistake, this was Art's home not mine. "Sorry I meant I'll still be at Dylan's then."

She's quiet. "We could do it at his then." I'm the one who is quiet now. This place already carried too much of her here. Not physically, nothing of her's was here and Dylan as far as I could tell had no photos of her but it didn't stop the memories. The earring. Christmas, seeing them on the futon, the same one he had rubbed my feet on last night, the same one I told him about Art on. The porch. The bed. Yeah she was all over this place and now she wanted to come and have coffee and pie here. Fucking fantastic. "Come on Donna and Andrea won't forgive me unless you say yes?"

I begin the chant I had used for months before I had left for Minnesota, you don't need the drama, just keep the peace. It calms me enough to respond, "sure here is fine."

"Great. I'll let them know."

"I really should go put Art down. Bye."

"Bye."

As I hang up I look at all three of them and then collect my sleeping son from his father's arms. "I'm going to go have a nap with Art." I look at my Brother's, "thank you for coming to visit." I stand and leave the room and ignore their frustrated sighs.

I place Art in his Crib and then crawl under the sheets. I try and stop myself from thinking about how many times she stayed here, in this bed. Was this her side? As the tears fall I try and talk myself down from losing it. It wasn't important anymore. We were co-parents that part of our relationship was over. It didn't need to keep hurting me. Eventually I fall asleep but it's restless. I dream of pools, parks, prom and futons. When I wake Art's not in his crib and it's getting dark outside. Dylan comes in to wake me for dinner but I decline, I'm not hungry. He doesn't push but I can see his concern, I roll over and attempt to sleep again. It must have worked as a little while later he is laying my freshly bathed son into my arms for his bedtime feed. Once Art is down Erica having got out of her shower comes in to say goodnight. My guilt at not having dinner with her especially the night before starting a new school rises up. I leave my bed and take the time to tuck her in and chat about the next day. Forty minutes later I'm leaving her room and Dylan is standing in the doorway of the hallway.

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

"I'm going to go have a shower."

"Bren." He rubs his hand through his hair but doesn't push. "Will you at least eat something first?"

"I'm not hungry."

His frustration is pouring off him but he is trying to keep it out of his voice. "Will you at least have some tea?"

"Maybe after my shower." I move past him to the bathroom and close the door. When I get out of my shower he has left a tea, fresh water, and a banana by my side of the bed. The fruit is supposed to be helpful to bring down blood pressure, it's a nice gesture. I'm dozing when he comes to collect my mug and peel though even in my light sleep I know he watches me for a while. When he comes to bed after his shower I wake from the blankets moving.

"Hey you need anything?" I shake my head. "We haven't checked your blood pressure tonight do you want me to go get the monitor from your bag?" There it is that stupid we again, it's the same we he used and she used in that park. The one I had been dreaming about all evening.

"No I checked it after my shower." I roll over and face the other way. Maybe staying here was a mistake. When I feel his hand in my hair I know it is.

"Baby whatever she said it doesn't matter, it's not important, it's just her jealousy speaking. She's not important to our family, to us."

Really is that what he thinks. "In that pool when you chose her, did you tell her it was always her? No that's not it, it was… I want you, I've always wanted you, that was what you said right?" His silence is answer enough. Three years, two as her placeholder it seems, one as… well whatever senior year was. Maybe that feeling he described last night on the phone was always just him reflecting mine, maybe this whole thing was all in my head. "Please don't touch my hair. It's easier for Art that we are here, it's easier for me that you are close enough to him in the night, but that's the only reason I'm in here with you, so please don't touch me." He moves his hand back.

I guess Kelly told the truth in that bathroom, it was nice at least one of them could be honest with me.